Clarity
by surrendersomething
Summary: Post-Knockout summer AU. Because it turns out that Richard Castle by her side might just have been all she needed all along.


**Clarity**

**Author's Note: **I'm not quite sure where this came from. I didn't even know when it was set until I started writing. Blame it on an upcoming employment law exam, that's really all I can think. So I give you a re-imagining of how the summer after Knockout _could_ have gone.

* * *

><p>When she wakes, it's to the feel of a gentle breeze barely fluttering across sheets that are smoother than silk and the cautious racing of her heart. Because she can <em>feel<em> him watching her and she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, exactly where she is on this otherwise unremarkable Wednesday morning.

"Good morning." His voice, before she has even opened her eyes, centres her. Calms the racing of her heart into something that feels suspiciously like happiness. And sure enough, as she opens her eyes, there he is. Clad in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, slung low against his hips as he stands in the open doorway to the balcony off his master suite in the Hamptons, he has a smile on his face that speaks of his happiness to be watching her wake up in his bed for the first time, but also of his confidence.

His confidence in _them_.

It's intoxicating.

"Morning," she breathes out softly, that one simple word sounding sleepy and relaxed and foreign to her own ears. It's exactly what he seems to have been waiting for though, because he strides across the bedroom before she even begins to move from her spot towards the middle of his bed, and her heart begins to race again, utterly consumed by the surety radiating from his every move. Bracing himself over her on one strong, oh so muscled arm, he brings his lips to hers in a kiss that says _good morning _along with something that feels dangerously close to _I love you,_ as the fingers of his other hand tangle gently into her hair.

"Hi," she manages to whisper when their lips part some seconds later, and his forehead drops to rest against hers as he chuckles. Before she's quite aware of what's happening, she finds herself laughing too.

"Hi, Kate," he murmurs quietly, taking a seat on the bed next to her as his fingers card lightly through her hair. His thumb trails a gentle path against her cheekbone, and she can't help the smile that dances across her lips.

"Did last night…" biting her lip, she shakes her head a little, not quite able to find the words to express the wonder that she feels.

"Yes," he answers, laughing softly. "Yes, it really happened."

"Wow," she breathes out, reaching her own hand out tentatively to touch the tips of her fingers to the soft fullness of his grin. His eyes slide shut for a moment - in pleasure, she hopes - before he blinks them back open and gives her the barest of glances back into the vulnerability he's already shown her.

"I didn't have you down as someone who slept late," he tells her quietly. Another blink hides those captivating blue eyes from her, before the confidence returns. "But I guess I must've worn you out, somewhere around round... three?" She can't help the soft laugh that escapes her lips, but she knows that there must be a pink stain to her cheeks because round three…

Phew.

And that's not even touching on the first two.

"Well, last night _was_ pretty…" she trails off, biting her lip in a way that she hopes conveys more than the words she can't quite seem to find around him.

"Yeah?" he asks, a little quieter than before.

"Yes," she tells him quietly, letting some of his confidence infuse its way into her own words. Letting her fingers curl against the corded muscles of his neck, she takes a deep breath. "And I never used to be," she offers quietly, watching as his gaze focuses on her again. "The type of person who sleeps late, I mean." She leaves the rest unspoken. The fact that her body, her recovery, left her with little choice than to accept the fact that in order to heal, sleep is unavoidably necessary.

If she gets to wake up like this more often though, she finds that she wouldn't really mind continuing to get more sleep.

"Actually makes you seem more human," he offers quietly, fingers curling carefully around a strand of her hair. She can't help but smile at that, using the fingers at the back of his neck to draw him in for another kiss. This one is as gentle as the first, but he lets her lead. Lets her use the kiss totell him _I'm okay_ and _I don't want to be anywhere else_.

"I'm just as human as the rest," she offers softly, lifting herself up carefully to settle against the cloud of pillows at the head of his opulent, sinfully comfortable bed.

She'll pay for last night today.

She knew that before she turned up at the Hamptons house she'd heard about but never seen after two months filled with nothing but phone calls. Knew that before she let him see her cry, because she was just so happy to see him. Before he held her and she whispered _I just want you_ and they managed to find their way to his bedroom as he kissed her like she was all his dreams come true.

He was a summer full of hers come true.

She knows that her body is too recently healed to have been able to handle one round with him, let alone three. There's a dull ache radiating from the surgical scar down her side, and she doesn't even have to try to know that she can expect not to be able to move her left arm much higher than waist height all day. Or to be good for too much else, if she's honest with herself.

She's learnt the current limitations of her slowly recovering body and mind over the summer, but rather than inspiring caution, it's somehow led her straight to his arms.

And she doesn't regret a single moment.

His fingers brush a curl of hair behind her ear, and she shakes herself out of her thoughts to find him doing the same, a million emotions flashing across his beautiful, expressive face as he drinks her in.

"Superhuman or not, I'm not letting you go now," he tells her quietly, that confidence back in a way that tells her arguing with him would be futile. Not that she even wants to.

"After last night?" she asks softly, finding him the most genuine smile she's worn in months as she sits up and into his arms, letting his strong arms cradle her weary body against the broad warmth of his own. "I'm not sure I'd let you let go without putting up a hell of a fight." She speaks those words into the safety of his shoulder, as his fingers slide under the thin camisole he'd helped her slip on somewhere before round three, stroking a calming pattern along the length of her spine.

"Good to know," he answers gruffly, his voice thick with emotion as he speaks against her hair.

"Just – go easy on me today," she murmurs, finding herself playing his normal carefree role this morning as they both struggle through the emotion of their first night together. Of their summer apart, at her insistence.

It brings a full on grin to her face when he rallies at her words, chuckling softly.

"You mean you're not looking for a repeat of round two?"

"Oh trust me, I am_ definitely_ looking for a repeat of round two," she tells him instantly, smiling as his palm cradles the back of her head when she pulls back to look at him.

"So you liked it?" he asks, his smile suddenly wide enough to match her own, and she _knows_ he's just fishing now. There's no way that he doesn't know how extraordinary he is in bed. No way that he doesn't know how extraordinary they were last night.

"Mhmm," she hums, pressing her smiling lips against his as she nods.

"Good," he breathes out, laughing softly as she tweaks his ear. "Now that we've established that however," he continues, fingers resuming their soothing trail along her back as she lets out a slow breath, feeling herself relax under his touch. "How do you feel about breakfast out there?" he asks, nodding his head towards the open doors as her heart actually skips a beat.

"You made me breakfast?" she asks softly, her lower lip caught between her teeth as all the pieces of the puzzle slot into place because somehow, even after everything they said to one another and everything they _did_ to one another last night, this feels even more intimate.

"It's nothing special," he tells her softly, "just some fresh fruit and pastries, but there is _really_ good coffee, and I thought that maybe something light would be best." He stumbles over his last comment slightly, and she feels tears smarting at the corners of her eyes because she knew he'd be considerate, but she hadn't prepared herself for him to have given so much thought to what she might need while she recovered.

"Sounds perfect," she whispers, kissing him until she ends up with her back against the pillows and him braced above her once again, both of them breathless.

"Wow," he breathes out eventually, as she finds herself almost giggling. "If I'd known the response _that_ got, I would never have made you pancakes," he huffs, and she finds herself laughing even harder at the memory.

"Trust me, Castle," she murmurs, pressing another kiss to his lips before letting him help her up. "If you'd tried to get away with just fruit back then, I would not have been impressed."

"Noted, Detective," he murmurs, his hand falling to the small of her back as they head over to the balcony. She finds herself hesitating for a second, suddenly overly aware of the camisole and lacy boyshorts which make up the entirety of her clothing, but suddenly he's at her back, warm and soothing before he even speaks. "It's pretty warm out there already," he tells her quietly, fingers carefully drawing her hair away from her ear, "and pretty private too, even when my neighbours are here." The kiss he places against her neck is gentle, and she curls her fingers at his wrist for a moment before stepping out into the sunshine.

It's warm and inviting, and as she lets herself sink into cushions that could almost rival the comfort of the bed she's just moved from he presses a steaming mug of coffee into her hands. He settles the bulk of his body next to hers, and she reaches for a pastry before resting her cheek against his shoulder.

He'd got it spot on with light food, particularly at this time in the morning, and she tears off a corner of perfectly light and fluffy cinnamon pastry, popping it in her mouth with a smile as his palm settles gently on her knee.

She feels better than she's felt in longer than she can remember, and she doesn't know whether it's down to the warmth of the sun, the comfort of her surrounding or the man sitting next to her (or the things he did to her last night) or a combination of them all, she knows that she really, really doesn't want to move.

"How're you feeling?" he asks softly, drawing her out of her own thoughts as he picks up a pastry of his own.

"I'm good," she murmurs softly, glancing up at him before reaching a thumb up to smooth his eyebrow as it raises sceptically. "Really," she assures him, letting out something close to a moan when his hand settles against the scar on her side. "I need to take it easy today, but I'm good. Being here is… good."

"There's a hot tub too," he murmurs, nudging her to look to her left. "It has multiple settings," he adds, sensing her hesitance about her too-recently healed injuries in the way that he always does. "I think the gentler setting might be good."

"If that works, Castle," she murmurs softly, biting her lip lightly as she lets herself dream for just a moment about just how good a soak in that hot tub would feel, "you might have trouble getting me to leave."

"You can stay as long as you want, Kate," he murmurs quietly, his sincerity clear in his every word.

And suddenly, in the simplest of conversations, everything she's been struggling with for the last two months seems as clear as the sky and the ocean stretching endlessly before them.

Because it turns out that Richard Castle by her side might just have been all she needed all along.

"How about the rest of the summer?"

_fin._


End file.
